


Campfire Story

by pizza_dog



Category: Naruto
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-13
Updated: 2019-03-13
Packaged: 2019-11-16 11:40:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18093614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pizza_dog/pseuds/pizza_dog
Summary: The night before their first assassination mission, Team 7 asks Kakashi a hard question.





	Campfire Story

Team 7 set up camp in the forests north of Konoha. They were one day out from their destination, where they would undergo their first assassination mission. The four of them were gathered around the small fire. Shadow danced with firelight across their pensive eyes. Sakura had the courage to voice what was weighing down each of their spirits: “Kakashi-sensei, when did _you_ have to kill someone for the first time?”

Sasuke appeared fixated on the fire, but was poised to analyze Kakashi’s answer. Even Naruto looked uncharacteristically sheepish at the question. 

Kakashi drew in a breath. A long, long time ago. Reflecting back on it, he felt like an entirely different creature...

 _The enemy shinobi advanced on the smallest of the group, the genin Kakashi with legs so short he struggled to keep up. The Iwa nin struck, while his comrades attacked the group’s flank. Kakashi dodged by the width of a blade of grass, and the exploding tag he left in his place sent the Iwa shinobi flying. The boy managed to remove himself from the explosion, but only barely. Despite the heat gnawing at each calf, he rushed the shinobi, whose legs had been mangled by the blast. Kakashi’s shining tanto struck downward. The Iwa nin outstretched his palm--and the tanto sliced clean through, into his neck. The Iwa nin’s other fist caught hold of Kakashi’s neck and_ squeezed… 

_Until Kakashi stabbed again, then again, breath hitching all the while. Blood spattered onto his mask, trickled down into squinting eyes. The shinobi’s severed trachea bubbled; his lips stretched into a noiseless scream. And then his chakra flickered and extinguished, like a candle wick pinched and plucked off. Kakashi’s hands trembled. The hilt, slippery with blood, fell from his grip. But the blade remained mostly upright, posted proudly in the shinobi’s windpipe._

__

__

_At five years old, Kakashi experienced his first kill on the battlefield. He had yet to lose his first baby tooth, but by shinobi standards, he was now a man. A weapon._

__

__

_Minato appeared in a kneel beside him, and gripped his shoulder. It was then that Kakashi saw Obito and Rin fifteen yards ahead, both of them rooted in place, wide-eyed and pale-faced at the scene. Kakashi lowered his eyes, feeling unexpected shame at his victory. His vision narrowed to the corpse at his feet. Sweat sprouted from every pore, and he was suddenly very cold..._

_Through cotton-filled ears, he heard the command: “Kakashi, deep breath.”_

__Oh. _Kakashi did as he was told. He tasted blood. He wanted to cry, but only babies and Obito cried._

__

__

_“You did well.” Minato said firmly, but his eyes looked sad. “Are you hurt?” Kakashi shook his head no. The burns smarted, but they hadn’t blistered. “Then we need to keep going. Say a prayer for him as we move.”_

_And so they advanced deeper into enemy territory. Kakashi did as Minato ordered. He had never prayed before, and wasn’t quite sure what it meant or how to do it, but he tried. He’d only needed to be told once that killing was a necessary consequence of their calling, because he’d accepted it without protest. Now he wished well for his enemy’s soul. It was perhaps trivial, all that a five year old could muster, but it was enough to temporarily ease his mind and let it refocus on the mission ahead. Malice, bloodlust, pride in killing--these were infections that would fester if allowed to take root._

Forever afterwards, Kakashi said a silent prayer every time he took a life, and every time he stood before the Memorial Stone. Sometimes he had taken so many in one battle that he had to lump them all together into one prayer. Sometimes, the ritual was fleeting and unfeeling. And sometimes, he felt vicious or hollow when maybe a better man would have felt sorrow. But instead of hate, he tried to hone humility. It was necessary so as not to totally lose himself in the killing. Not that he hadn’t gotten close. 

Minato worked for a world where children could live as children. It was a dream he did not live to see, but he imbued it into his students’ minds. Being the only one to survive childhood, it was Kakashi’s dream now, too. 

When he looked at his genin, curled round the fire with expectant eyes, he saw children. He wasn’t sure if it was for the best, or if it was just prolonging the inevitable: the subjugation of will into weapon. For Minato’s sake, he decided to have a little faith in a kinder future.

So Kakashi released his breath, and told them the story.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you have a chance, I’d love to hear from you in the comments.


End file.
